My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 121 Silent Housing Manager

Facing the sudden request from the priest, Yule did not make much movement. He just stared at him and said calmly:

"Before asking for help, you should at least show your sincerity first, right?"

The fog gradually dissipated, and the light of morning light penetrated into this cemetery that seemed isolated from the world.

The priest slowly stood up, his bird-bone mask shimmering with mottled light and shadows, and a hoarse voice emanated from it:

"Don't you want to go back to London? I have a way."

Jules randomly found a tall tombstone to lean against and said:

"Old John told me before that the Baron might let me leave with the tax collection team."

Although he didn't answer directly, his meaning was revealed - he didn't seem to necessarily have to look for the priest in front of him.

The other party obviously heard his hidden meaning, but he still looked calm and composed, laughing:
“That also requires tax revenue.”

Yule's eyes flickered:

“How come you see?”

The priest shook his head and did not answer directly, but turned and walked into the building.

"If you are interested, please follow me."

……

In a tunnel as complex as a maze.

The pale candle flame danced, reflecting on the skull worn by the priest, making it appear even paler.

Jules followed the priest slowly, taking in what he saw around him.

These tunnels have obviously gone through a long time. Even the people who cleaned them later had become lazy and only roughly swept the dust on the main road.

In the sunken pits on both sides of the tunnel, a layer of ash as thick as a palm has accumulated.

Seeing Jules looking around, the priest explained to him:
"In the past, to prevent barbarian invasions, the ancestors of Branqug who lived in this monastery built a complex of tunnels and moved some important rooms underground."

After saying this, he sighed:

"Of course, after all the effort put into it, it wasn't used in the end—but then, no one expected it to be used."

No wonder this place gave him a sense of staleness... Jules nodded slightly without saying anything.

He calmed down and savored the "flavor" here.

As a master of secret history, he was extremely sensitive to this kind of historical sedimentation.

And the ever-present winter principle here seemed to fully reveal the decline of a thousand years, which made him even more intoxicated.

Although he couldn't see it with his own eyes, just breathing the air here seemed to resonate with the past time and space.

“What a unique feeling…”

Jules saw that the priest stopped in front of a wooden door not far away.

This wooden door was also different from the surrounding ones. The dust had been consciously cleared away, and the door handle was as smooth as new. It was obvious that someone had been in and out of it not long ago.

"Please come in." The priest turned sideways and made an inviting gesture to Le.

With a creaking sound, the wooden door slowly opened.

As soon as the wooden door was opened, an inexplicable cold wind blew in my face, mixed with the smell of mold and a faint scent of ink.

One can't help but wonder where the wind comes from in this place isolated from the outside world.

The room was small and dimly lit, lit only by a flickering candlestick in the corner.

There were several paintings hanging on the wall, their frames old and the edges covered with a thin layer of dust.

Jules walked in, glanced around, and his footsteps made a light sound on the stone floor.

The priest stood at the door and did not follow in. He just whispered:
"Take a look, the things here can answer your questions."

Jules raised his eyebrows, suppressed the urge to question, and stopped in front of a painting.

The painting shows a monastery, bathed in the midnight moonlight, its spire piercing the dark sky, and faint yellow light shining through the windows, like half-open eyes.

The painting style is rough, but it exudes a cold atmosphere.

He squinted his eyes and vaguely felt that this place looked familiar.

At first glance, it looked somewhat similar to the monastery he was entering now, but upon closer inspection, it was completely different.

The painting hanging nearby changes the perspective, giving a clear view of the interior of the monastery.

The painting shows a spacious hall with bookshelves lining the walls. The spines of the books are yellowed and some are scattered on the ground.

There was a long table in the middle, piled with heavy books. Candlelight flickered beside it, casting long shadows.

There is no one in the painting, but one feels like there are eyes watching from the dark.

Even though he knew nothing about painting techniques, Jules could still sense the painter's emotions from this painting.

Silence, dead silence.

Jules pondered for a while, then turned to look at the third painting.

It was still the monastery, but shrouded in fog, its outline blurred, as if swallowed by time.

Moreover, near the monastery gate in the painting, there is a "shadow" wandering.

When he saw this figure, his expression suddenly became serious and his eyes did not move away for a long time.

"You truly are worthy of being the prophesied being. You discovered the secret of this painting so easily."

Seeing this, the priest sighed, walked forward slowly, and stared at the painting together.

Yule pursed his lips, looked at the priest beside him, and said calmly:

"Now that you've seen the painting, there's no need to beat around the bush, right?"

The priest nodded dully, grabbed a chair and handed it to Jules.

After the two of them sat down naturally, the priest spoke:

"Along the way, you must have seen how poor Brancug looked, right?"

Jules nodded slightly.

"of course."

The priest took a deep breath and said:

"Have you ever wondered why the transmission of mystical knowledge here doesn't seem to be subject to some secret restrictions like in the outside world?"

"I was indeed curious," Jules said, looking at the priest with interest. "The knowledge they conveyed, which was far beyond the capabilities of these residents, seemed to be no different from everyday life."

The priest nodded heavily:
"Yes, the source of all this is due to the painting you saw—or rather, the prototype of the monastery in this painting."

"And we call it... 'The Quiet House.'

However, people outside prefer to call it 'Silent Bookstore'; there is no difference between the two, it's just a difference in the name."

After hearing this name, Jules froze in mid-air, and his heart was filled with turmoil.

Silent Bookstore? A true temple of occult knowledge, the entity behind the Anti-Suppression Bureau?
Could it be such a coincidence?

Moreover, he clearly remembered that before he went to Innsmouth, Silent Bookstore had already refused to accept visitors from outside.

Jules stroked the dusty teacup beside him, frowning slightly:

"I've heard of it. Something seems to have happened?"

The priest was slightly startled, and then a sigh came from the hollow bird bones:

"Not long ago, after the fire, it closed itself up again and began to wait for its new owner."

"Through divination of the prophecies left by our ancestors, I learned that the current Juwu is seeking a being who 'should have died but has not died'."

Jules' expression remained unchanged:

"So, how does this relate to what we were talking about in the beginning?"

The priest gritted his teeth and said, "After London entered a state of war, the Empire's taxation strategy was also adjusted, and our island of Branco was required to collect a strange pigment as tax."

"Originally we could still afford it, but... this time, we really have no other choice."

Yule raised his eyebrows and said:

"Go on."

"That kind of paint is only produced in the Silent Bookstore—or the Silent Home, and we're out of stock."

Having said this, the priest stared at Jules intently, observing his reaction, fearing that he would show any sign of rejection.

The candlelight flickered and the room was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Jules leaned back in his chair, tapping his teacup with his fingers, his eyes fixed steadily on the priest.

The priest sat opposite, his eyes tense beneath the bone mask.

The air seemed to freeze, making it hard to breathe.

"You mean," Jules finally said after a long pause, his voice calm, "that I should go to the House of Silence and get that paint?"

The priest nodded, his tone urgent:

"Yes. As long as you can get in and get the paint, Brancugar can pay the tax, and you can also enter London! Otherwise, if the tax cannot be paid, Brancugar will suffer a devastating disaster!"

Yule lowered his head, remained silent for a moment, then raised his head and said:
"The housing estate is closed, how can you be sure I can get in?"

The priest took a deep breath and said:

"The prophecy says that its owner will be someone who should have died but has not. You are exactly what it's looking for, so you will definitely be able to enter."

Jules narrowed his eyes and did not respond immediately, but turned to look at the painting on the wall.

The monastery in the painting is shrouded in fog, and the wandering shadow seems like a living creature, wandering silently on the paper.

He felt a chill, but also a hint of curiosity.

"Do you remember when that place was closed?"

The priest thought for a while and said:

“About a year ago, there was a fire and it’s been like this ever since.

No one can enter it anymore. When we locals try to get close, we encounter all kinds of terrible undead spirits wandering around and are forced to give up such ideas.

You should know that we locals call it a home ownership housing unit, but outsiders call it a library and a bookstore!

As long as you can take over there, even if it's only temporarily, the mystical knowledge you can gain there will be vast and unimaginable!"

Hearing this, Yule's eyes flickered slightly.

He was indeed tempted, but he still needed to weigh the potential risks.

"If that's the case, it seems we can talk..."

……

In the end, Jules accepted to cooperate with the priests.

The temptation to take over the bookstore and become the new "librarian" is too great.

Even if there is no extra income, being able to enter the bookstore and read the knowledge hidden deep in the halls is an extremely rich gain!
What is more realistic is that if he wants to return to London, he must join the tax collection team.

But if Brancog has no taxes to collect, such opportunities will naturally disappear.

Since the atmosphere has been set to this point, Jules feels that it would be a waste of resources and an unworthiness to his status if he does not try to control this great library.

After the negotiations ended and a consensus was reached, Jules did not stay for long. He chatted briefly and then said goodbye.

The priest made an appointment with him that he would personally take him to see the "abandoned" library at noon tomorrow, when the sun was at its hottest.

He readily agreed to this.

……

Ever since Jules was taken away, Old John seemed a little uneasy.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking in the direction where Jules was taken away, muttering something to himself.

"Old John, are you all right?"

The shepherd from next door passed by and saw Old John's appearance and couldn't help but feel a little worried.

"No, I'm fine." Old John blurted out subconsciously.

The shepherd was a little surprised, but didn't say much and turned away.

But after he left, the boy came to his grandfather and said:

"Grandpa, are you thinking about mom again?"

Old John sighed, patted the boy's shoulder, and said helplessly:
"Little Bell, do you remember how long ago your mother passed away?"

"Well...it's been almost ten years?" The boy looked unsure.

"You remember it correctly," Old John nodded, looking somewhat sentimental. "Do you know why Grandpa was so worried about the gentleman from London?"

The young man shook his head repeatedly.

Old John sighed:

"Perhaps, he is the only one who can bring your mother's body back from the ghoul cemetery."

Hearing this term, the boy's expression changed and he said:
"But, the High Priest is powerless, he..."

"No, kid, you don't understand. That man has a special temperament that even the High Priest doesn't possess." Old John shook his head, his eyes determined.

"He can definitely do it..."

The boy was a little confused, but no matter how he asked, Old John just remained silent.

After waiting for a long time without any result, Old John finally couldn't sit still anymore and slowly stood up.

"I haven't inspected the cemetery yet. Wait here for a moment. I'll be back soon."

……

As dusk approached, the sky was dyed a little red.

The wind blew across the fields, bringing a hint of coolness.

Jules walked along the path back to old John's cabin with steady steps.

There was some dust on his clothes, but he didn't care.

"Mr. John, I'm back!" he shouted towards the house.

However, the response was not from John, but from the young man's tearful voice:
"Mr. Jules, Grandpa is missing!"

At this moment, the boy was standing at the door, his eyes were red and swollen, he was holding a shovel in his hand, and his voice was trembling.

Jules frowned, feeling a bad premonition.

He quickly walked to the young man and asked in a deep voice:

"When did you disappear?"

The young man pursed his lips and said:

"After you were taken away, he kept sitting there muttering. He just said he was going to the cemetery to inspect it, but he hasn't come back yet. I waited for a long time..."

His words were a little incoherent, but Jules still managed to understand what the other party meant.

It seems that in addition to his usual grazing, farming, fishing and other things, Old John would visit the nearby cemetery every day.

But today he never came back.

One of the passages described by the boy caught his attention:
"...I saw some strange figures over there a while ago. They were just as scary as when Mr. Jules first appeared on the beach..."

Was I so scary when I first appeared on the beach? Jules couldn't help but ponder.

Could it be that Old John really encountered the so-called "ghoul"?
(End of this chapter)